


Through the lens

by WilwyWaylan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Just some harmless fluff, Other, his pride suffers so much, poor Montparnasse, they need so much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilwyWaylan/pseuds/WilwyWaylan
Summary: Montparnasse is forced to swallow his pride when he realizes he needs to wear.... glasses.





	Through the lens

Friday nights were Jehan's favourite kind of nights. All their lessons were behind them, next Monday was still very, very far away, so far that they could barely envision it, homework could still wait a day, and there were two whole days to fill ahead of them. They could go for a walk, break into a cemetary to write, visit a few shops of their accointances, drop by the library, crash on a friend's couch for a creative session (involving ink, paint and not too many clothes) or a movie night, and still have enough time to cuddle with Montparnasse and sleep in. Even better, when they had finally moved together, Montparnasse had taken upon himself to spend more time at home. Especially Friday nights, since he knew they were important for Jehan.

And so they were now seated on the couch, each at one end, a colorful, hand-knitted plaid thrown on their intertwined legs. Cups of hot cocoa and plates of cookies were strategically placed within their reach. There was no noise in the flat, no music, no noisy neighbours, nothing but Montparnasse (the cat) purring like a tiny motor from where she was sprawled, between her masters' knees. Jehan had opted for some light reading for the evening, and was currently engrossed in a very nice steampunk story about a poet and an adventurer. Well, engrossed to a point. They kept glancing up at Montparnasse, who seemed very interested in whatever he was reading on his phone. The light of the screen gave a blueish glint to his eyes, and a beautiful shine to his hair. Huge concession to the evening, he had traded his black suit, elegant shirt and tailored jacket for a t-shirt, slighty less tight pants and a knit jacket that were way more comfortable. All black, of course, his concession didn't extend to colors. He was reading something apparently fascinating, because he barely moved, only sweeping from time to time to get to the next part, apparently unaware that Jehan was looking at him. Or maybe he knew, and was enjoying the attention. Both were possible, and both were good.

He was browsing through a sale of Armani jackets, when a book suddenly appeared in his field of vision, startling him.

\- Here, Jehan chirped, read that ! It's amazing !

They leaned back, waiting for the small chuckle that would soon follow. Montparnasse took the book, brought it close to his face. Very close. And stared at it. And stared at it more, without any reaction. And was he.... squinting ?

\- Ma rose, Jehan asked slowly. Is there....

They were cut by a growl. Montparnasse was still not looking at them. His nose was almost burrowed in the book, and he was frowning. After two years, Jehan fancied themselves an expert in Montparnassese, and they could read him... Well, like a book. That attitude, that noise, were more than just a passing annoyance. Something was wrong.

Very gently, Jehan moved fowards, taking the time to pick up the cat and put her on the floor. Montparnasse still hadn't looked up, focusing entirely on the page. Or pretending very hard. Slowly, to give him all the time he needed to retract, Jehan put a hand at the top of the book, and after a few seconds, pulled it out of his boyfriend's grasp. Montparnasse entrelaced his now empty fingers, keeping his eyes firmly lowered.

\- Alistair ? Jehan asked again.

They almost never used his given name, opting for pet names instead, and this time, Montparnasse glanced up, briefly, before going back to contemplating his hands. Jehan took them, unfolding the tense fingers one by one. They were cold, as usual, and they held them tight to warm them.

\- Alistair, they tried again, tell me...

\- Tell me what ? That I can't see from further than a couple feet ? That I broke my sight trying to see in the dark ? That I'm fucking blind as a fucking bat ? Ha ha, very funny, yes ! Go on, laugh ! It's the best fucking joke of the fucking year !

Jehan let the anger wash over him, stroking Montparnasse's skin with their thumb, trying to soothe him. As they expected, the outburst didn't last. Montparnasse soon slumped on himself, eyes down again.

Tenderly, Jehan slid a hand under Montparnasse's chin, lifted his head, until he looked at them, and wiped the small tear pooling at the corner of his eye.

\- I'll take you to the optometrist, okay ? And, they added, I promise not to tell anyone about this. Cross my heart and hope to die.

Montparnasse's only answer was a small noise, but there was a tiny smile tugging at his lips. Jehan grabbed his arms and pulled him towards them. Montparnasse resisted a little for show, then let himself be caught in the embrace. Jehan bundled him in the large flaps of his shirt, covering him in swaths of gaudy tartan, and wrapped their arms around him. The buttons of their overalls dug in Montparnasse's back, and he wiggled around a little until he was comfortably leaning against their chest. Jehan retrieved the book from between the cushions, and started reading out loud. Montparnasse laid his head on their shoulder and closed his eyes, letting Jehan's voice lulling him.

~*~

Jehan was sitting on a bench coincidentally set just in front of the optometrist. A notebook was open on their lap, but the page that should have welcomed their newest poem was instead covered in meaningless doodles. As promised, they had made an appointment for Montparnasse, and had walked them there. But Montparnasse had been very clear : he wanted to go there alone. Jehan had kissed him for good luck, and had taken residence on the bench.

Thirty minutes had gone by, and still, no sign of Montparnasse. That wasn't a bad omen, of course. At least, for Montparnasse. He was able to take care of himself. No, that small twinge of dread Jehan was feeling was more for the doctor. Montparnasse didn't like to be poked and prodded, and he knew how to make himself heard. Jehan just hoped that the doctor they had opted for was patient and not too pushy. Or they would be in way more trouble than just a need of glasses.

Finally, as they started to think that they should do something, maybe burst into the office, grab their boyfriend and run, Montparnasse exited the glass doors. He didn't look particulary happy with the situation, but not very angry either. Jehan made an effort to trust him and not check his hands for any trace of blood.

\- So, they asked as soon as Montparnasse sat beside them, how did it go ?

\- I need glasses, was the stern answer.

His tone was so bitter than Jehan reached over and pulled him against them, very gently. There was no resistance, Montparnasse let himself be hugged, leaning his forehead against Jehan's. They stayed like this for a few minutes, giving Montparnasse the time to relax and get his footing back.

\- Do you want to go and pick your glasses ? they finally asked. Or would you prefer contacts ?

\- I can't, Montparnasse answered with a dry, unamused laugh. My eyes can't handle them. Too dry, they said. Glasses or nothing.

Jehan held him a little tighter, stroking the short hair on the side of his boyfriend's skull with his thumb. Montparnasse emitted a noise that sounded a little like a purr.

\- So ? Do you want to go and pick some glasses ? And then we can go home and binge-watch Say yes to the dress.

\- As if I watched that kind of shows, Montparnasse scoffed, but there was the hint of a smile in his voice.

\- I know you can't resist talk of 10000$ dresses and Armani-designed cakes.

\- You know me so well.

~*~

Choosing glasses was, of course, easier said than done. Montparnasse was very picky in all his fashion choices, and glasses were no exception. He'd been at it for the best part of an hour now, the unwanted pile kept growing bigger, and the clerk's patience was getting thinner. But no matter what she pulled out of her drawers, it couldn't find grace in his eyes.

\- Ma rose, Jehan called from where they were browsing through an assortiment of _very_ colored frames, can't you find anything ?

\- They are all awful, Montparnasse groaned.

\- All of them, really ?

\- I don't think there's anything even worth trying in this shop.

He glanced pointedly at Jehan who was sporting a very fancy frame with flowers carved all along the legs.

\- Come on, ma rose. I'm sure we could find something. Let's see...

\- If you come at me with another pink frame, I swear to god I'll burn the store down to the ground.

The clerk looked vaguely worried now. Jehan smiled at her to reassure her.

\- You only need them to read, Jehan remarked, so you'll only wear them at home. I'll be the only one to see them.

\- You're the only one to see my pajamas, and that doesn't mean I'm not going to choose something not stylish.

\- Not stylish ? You sleep in...

\- What do you think of those ? Montparnasse cut hastily.

He was holding a sleek, black frame, with elongated lenses. Probably one he randomly grabbed in the pile, but Jehan had to admit, they looked quite good.

\- Try them on ?

Montparnasse glanced at him, then at the glasses in his hand. He looked ready to throw them on the floor. But finally, he slipped them on. Jehan stiffled a gasp, even lifting a hand to their mouth.

\- What ? Montparnasse asked. So horrible ?

\- No... not at all. You look...

\- I look ?

\- Stunning.

Montparnasse raised a graceful eyebrow and turned to face the mirror. He studied himself at an angle, then another, lifted his chin, lowered his head.

\- It's... not bad, he finally said.

Jehan joined him, laying their hands on Montparnasse's shoulders, and bent down to look at him over his head.

\- They fit you very well, they cooed, and they really bring out your eyes.

\- I think so, Montparnasse said with a smile.

\- Are there of a satisfying brand ?

Montparnasse took off the glasses to look at the small letters on the lens.

\- Prada. They'll do.

The clerk smiled, visibly relieved to have found something before the black-dressed man decided to destroy her shop. Jehan smiled, too, pushing the glasses back on Montparnasse's nose.

\- You look amazing, my love. Look at you, you're as handsome with glasses as without. You're really a sight to behold.

\- A sight you love ?

\- A sight I adore. I should take a pic right now and hold it dear.

\- Maybe you should do away with the heart-shapped glasses, then.

\- Never.

~*~

They were once again settled on the couch, books in hand and hot cocoa within reach. Montparnasse was half-laying against Jehan's chest, toying with the corner of a page. The glasses, brand-new, had been resting on his lap for twenty minutes now, and still, he hadn't made a move to put them on. Jehan hadn't said a word ; that was a path Montparnasse had to take on his own. They slid their fingers through his hair from time to time, but other than that, they didn't move. Even the cat was sitting at the end of the couch, watching them intensely, her tail swaying lazily back and forth.

Montparnasse extended a hand towards the glasses, slowly, as if they could bite him. But they kept sitting here, as innocently as possible for a pair of glasses. He lifted them to the light, studying them, watching the light play through the lenses. Finally, when nothing bad happened, he slid them on his face, adjusting them slightly, and stayed like that, simply looking through them.

\- How does it feel ? Jehan asked softly.

\- ... clear, mostly. Things aren't blurry anymore. I can focus.

\- I'm glad for you.

\- If only I could not look like a nerd.

\- The most good-looking nerd in existence, I assure you.

Montparnasse nudged them with a groan and settled a little closer, Jehan's arms wrapped around his waist. The cat came on his lap to claim the now free spot and curled up into a small ball, perfectly nestled on his legs. As they picked up their book, Jehan whispered in Montparnasse's ear :

\- You know, I'm sure you look awesome, wearing nothing but those glasses...

\- My, aren't you a naughty one, Jehan Prouvaire ? And here I thought that you were mostly a pure spirit...

\- You know very well that I can't resist you. And I have a soft spot for people with glasses. So, you with glasses....

\- ... gets you weak.

\- Very weak.

\- Well I might find a way to revive you...

Books fell on the floor, completly forgotten, followed by a disgruntled cat, and soon, a whole bunch of clothes. But not the glasses.


End file.
